look at what you want (not at where you are)
by patientalien
Summary: "You gotta move on." During Endgame, Steve struggles to come to terms with how Thor has changed, and tries to make things better with mixed results.


The Compound is buzzing with life in a way it hasn't in years. The team, the _whole_ team, reassembled for the greater good, working together the way they used to. Steve Rogers wishes he could feel better about it. While he has every confidence in the team to complete the mission, seeing everyone again is a little - discomforting, after everything that's happened. Some of them have fared better than others, and the difference between the two is no more apparent than watching Thor stumble through his attempts to explain the Aether.

Knowing what Clint has been doing for these past five years is bad enough. The man had lost his entire family, and went vigilante. While Barton acts more or less like himself, especially in Nat's company, his eyes are still dark. Haunted. Still, he's engaged in the mission, dedicated to the attempt, and his dry humor meshes well with the energy of the new people on the team.

Thor, though. Bruce had warned them. Rocket had warned them. Tony had warned them. Steve hadn't believed it. Hadn't _wanted_ to believe it. Surely they were exaggerating. Surely the God of Thunder, a man Steve had watched summon the power of the cosmos itself, would be alright. That's just how Thor was: adaptable, quick to recover from any setback. He had removed himself from the group after Wakanda, and hadn't spoken to any of them after the final blow to Thanos before leaving to, Steve supposes, New Asgard. Steve told himself Thor just needed some time. And then… somehow, five years went by.

"Who's with Thor?" Tony asks when Steve enters the kitchen. No preamble, nothing. The engineer's on edge, moving a little jerkily as he whips up a bowlful of eggs. Steve would write it off as nerves about the, uh, Time Heist, but he knows Tony doesn't get nervous about his own genius. Which means he's nervous about something else, and Steve has a feeling that _something else _is the Asgardian currently camped out in the conference room.

"Clint and Nat," Steve answers easily. After watching that little performance and the aftermath, the last thing he wanted to do was leave Thor alone. "What are you doing?" He's seen Tony cook before, but they'd had lunch not a couple of hours prior, and Tony looks like he's cooking for five.

Tony pours the eggs into a skillet and turns on the stove. "Making Butterscotch an omelette," he explains with a shrug, and one of the team's old nicknames for Thor leaves a bitter taste in Steve's mouth. "He didn't eat lunch."

"Yeah, he drank his," Steve says before he can stop himself. He had watched Thor get more and more intoxicated over the course of their working lunch, unable eventually to even _try_ to participate, not that he had been making much of an effort to begin with. And nobody had said a word about it. Nobody had stepped up and stopped him, let alone Steve. It sits uneasily with him.

Tony huffs a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Listen, Cap, I know what you're gonna say, and I'm tellin' you… you can't expect more than that right now." He turns his attention back to the skillet. "I wish it weren't the case, but…"

"But nothing," Steve retorts, the sense of this being _wrong_ flaring in him, hotly. "He's killing himself and we're letting him do it. How is that supporting our team, Tony?"

He forces himself to remain still and unbothered when Tony slams the spatula down on the counter. "Really? You think I don't see that?" he snaps. "What do you want us to do, Rogers? We force this, we lose him. Is that what you want?" Stark pushes a hand through his hair and shakes his head. "I don't like it any more than you do." In his tone, an olive branch. _I'm so tired of fighting you, Tony_.

Steve sighs, and forces himself to relax his stance. They're not going to argue over this, he instructs himself. They're on the same side. "You know," he says, circling the counter to help Tony with the food preparation, wordlessly accepting the cutting board and tomatoes, beginning to dice them with quick efficiency. "I could have helped him sooner. Gotten him into a program. Something."

Tony doesn't look at him. "We all could have. Doesn't change the fact we didn't, and it doesn't change the fact we can't - _fix _him in a day or two." Fix him, like Thor is one of Tony's gadgets. "What we _can_ do, is keep him _here_, whatever that takes. And when this is over, _then_ we do it your way."

Relief floods him, and while he doesn't like the idea of letting Thor coast on his poor coping mechanisms for the entire mission, he knows Tony has a point. They have a job to do, and once that's done… well, Steve knows he's going to be making a lot more time for his friend.

He and Tony continue the process of making the omelette, the conversation moving to other topics for the time being. Steve is happy to hear Tony's stories about Morgan and Pepper, is _genuinely _glad that Tony seems so happy. Some people don't move on, but Tony Stark managed, and somehow still decided to help them. Such a departure from the cocky showboat Steve had met in Stuttgard. Eventually the food is done and together they head to the conference room.

To Steve's surprise, Thor is engaged in a fairly animated conversation with Clint and Natasha when they enter. Nat is even laughing. "Hey, Thor. We brought you some lunch," Tony says, setting the plate down. He looks uncomfortable, almost, Steve notices.

Thor's gaze is impossible to track behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, but his head moves in the direction of the plate, and then in the direction of Tony. "This isn't a bloody mary," he says with smile.

"Nope," Tony replies, and points to the plate. "Eat that whole thing, and I'll whip you up the best bloody mary you've ever had in your life." Oh, wow. Tony really _is _a parent now, huh, Steve thinks to himself, a bit dubiously. Bribery and all.

Thor scrunches up his face. "I highly doubt that, I have lived a very long life," he says, and tugs the plate towards himself. "But I would like to see you try."

That's some kind of progress, at least. Clint gives Thor a pat on the shoulder and Nat gives him a soft smile and the two former SHIELD agents leave the room, presumably to join up with one of the other brainstorming groups going on. Thor is eating the omelette in choppy movements, as though he has forgotten how to act around other people. Maybe he has, Steve thinks.

"Thor, can we talk for a minute?" He knows he had, technically, agreed to wait on this, but he really can't stay silent. He at least wants to put the idea of recovery in Thor's head _now_, before they get much further in enabling him.

Thor nods rhythmically, shoving another forkful of eggs into his mouth. "Lots to talk about," he says as he chews.

"Cap," Tony says, warningly.

Steve puts out a hand, a signal for calm, a plea for Tony not to spark the fight that's brewing just below the surface. "We're worried about you, Thor," he says.

Thor sets the fork down and leans back in his chair, peering at them over the rims of his sunglasses. Steve sees the glint of gold, the edge of the cruel scar that cuts across Thor's eye. "Listen, everyone has seemed very concerned and that's very nice, but it's unnecessary," he says. Over the past five years, his voice has changed somewhat. Its hoarser, now, with a hint of vocal fry. It's… disconcerting. "I'm fine." He jerks his chin up and gives them a half-hearted smile.

"You're lying to yourself," Steve says and ignores Tony's sharp intake of breath. "And I get it. I know you lost everything. And I know you feel guilty. And I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry that happened to you. But this -" He gestures to the beer can in Thor's hand. "This isn't the way to feel better."

"Unbelievable," Tony mutters, wrapping his arms around himself and turning away. He's not actively stopping the attempt at conversation, though, so Steve presses on.

"When we're done with the mission, I'd love for you to stay here for a while. I know a few places that could help you." Well, maybe. It kind of depends on how the mission goes, and it depends on if Thor is receptive, and it depends on - well, a lot of things. But at the very least he wants Thor thinking about it.

Thor is silent and still for a very, very long moment. "Unnecessary," he says, finally, his voice wavering. "I'll be going home after this." Home, where, according to Bruce and Rocket, Thor spends his days in a fog, slowly dying of his grief. "That's the idea, right? Fix this mess and go home?" He swallows down the remainder of the beer and seems to be searching around for another.

"What's left for you there?" Steve asks softly.

That stops Thor cold. He stands, removing his sunglasses as he does. He's still just about the same height, and now much much bulkier, but even despite his size, Thor looks smaller, somehow. Diminished. He peers _up_ into Steve's eyes instead of steadily across. "Are we not fixing what -" the name seems to catch in his throat - "We're fixing it. And since we're fixing it, I'll have things to go back to. My people and my kingdom will be restored. I can't very well allow _Loki_ to rule in my place again, can I?" At his brother's name, Thor's voice cracks again.

Steve meets Tony's stricken gaze over Thor's head as they both realize in the same instant that Thor thinks this mission will bring back what he had lost before the Snap. And while it might be possible, the way Bruce and Tony had explained it, it would also cause unknown problems in space-time. "Why don't you finish your eggs, bud?" Tony ventures, circling around to stand beside Steve.

Thor blinks at them and takes a step backwards. "We're bringing them all back," he says with a scoff, as if Steve is being entirely unreasonable. "That's the _point_! Why else would we be doing this?" His eyes dart between Steve and Tony, and Steve can tell the horrible effort it's taking for him to hold it together.

"First thing's first," Tony says, putting a firm hand against Thor's chest. "You need to eat." At the very least, getting some of alcohol in Thor's system soaked up with food will help him think a little more clearly. Steve shifts uncomfortably at the clear power struggle happening between Iron Man and the God of Thunder. And it is, in fact, a struggle. Still, Tony stares Thor down.

"Now wait a second," Thor says, oblivious to the looks he's being given, "I thought we were all in agreement on this. We get the stones, we fix everything. Everything-everything." Steve is fairly certain nobody had made that particular agreement, but he is also fairly certain Thor has heard what he wants to hear. When neither of them respond right away, Thor's expression twists, eyes darting back and forth, nostrils flaring. "Oh. Okay. So, so everybody else gets - this is a 'greater good' thing. Okay. Got it. Okay." He blinks, his natural eye growing watery, and he swipes a hand across his face. "Right. Stupid, me thinking- right. Okay."

"Thor -" Steve attempts, taking a step towards his friend, who has begun rocking side to side a bit, jaw clenched and teeth grinding.

"That's!" Thor takes a quick step backwards, jerking his whole upper body away, as if Steve's very presence had burned him. "That's enough," he continues. "That's enough talking. Go away, please." He slumps back down in his chair and picks up the fork again, shoving it forcefully into the eggs.

Tony sighs sharply and rakes a hand over his beard. Steve crosses his arms over his chest and stands his ground. Thor might not like it, but he certainly isn't about to go away _now_. "Thor, we need to talk about this," he says firmly.

"Maybe now isn't the time, Cap," Tony says softly, but Steve knows they can't keep doing this. They can't keep coddling their friend, letting him live in his denial. There's no way he can get better without moving forward, without accepting reality.

"No, I think now might be a good time." He would prefer to be having this conversation with a sober Thor, but he also knows that's basically asking for the impossible. _We work with what we've got_, he tells himself. "Look. I get it. I really do. I lost everybody important to me when I went into the ice. I had to adjust. And it's hard, man, I _know_ it's hard. If I could use the stones to go back and change that, or at least be able to-" He's about to say _help Bucky sooner,_ but he can tell he's already on thin ice with Tony. Bringing up Bucky might be the spark that ignites the fireworks. "Well, I understand, anyway. The point is, all we can do is try to move forward. Make what we can better." It's the rote speech he uses during the group sessions, but it has, he knows, helped people. He hopes it helps Thor, though the narrow-eyed, incredulous look he's getting suggests otherwise.

"So you're saying," Thor says, cracking open another beer, "that I should just - accept? That my family. And my friends. And my people. And my _brother_ are all dead. Forever. When we have a way of getting them back? That I should just, what? Help out of the _goodness_ of my _heart_?" He shakes his head, gulping at the beer, and Steve's stomach turns, just a little. "Everybody else is getting something out of this. Not me. None of the rest of you could kill - him - and you all still get what you want. Sounds fair. Sounds good." He nods once, a tear sliding down his cheek.

Tony kneels down next to Thor's chair, glaring daggers at Steve. Steve, though, has never been easily intimidated, and certainly not by Tony Stark. Thor has to get this out, they _have_ to get this through to him, if only to protect the integrity of the mission. If Thor is after a different outcome than the rest of them, it might jeopardize everything. And it would break Thor's heart at the end of it all, the shock of not getting what he wants. "Hey. No, that's not what we're asking you to do. If you want out, you can be out. No pressure. We just wanna make sure everybody's expectations are the same, that's all. So there are no surprises. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Well, it kind of contradicts everything Steve just said, but he really should be used to that by now. And Tony's not wrong, exactly. "I wish it weren't the case," Steve admits. "But we don't know what that could do to the time stream. It's just not -"

"Nope, I get it," Thor interrupts, waving a hand dismissively. "No explanation needed." He's now refusing to meet either of their eyes, and Steve feels his guts twist a little bit, guiltily. Tony was right, he should have left well enough alone. Now Thor might pull away altogether, and Steve is a little afraid of what might come of that.

"Thor, I'm sorry. I really am."

He is sorry. He's sorry they can't bring back Thor's home or loved ones. He's sorry that he brought any of this up even after Tony had warned him not to. He doesn't even know if he _believes _in that whole _gotta move on_ platitude anymore, but it's what he's got, and if Thor isn't able to move on, Steve isn't sure what kind of life that makes for his friend. Not a good one, not if what Bruce and Rocket have said and what Steve has seen are any indications. He just wants to _help_.

Thor stares down at his plate, silently. "I'll go grab you that drink," Tony murmurs, pulling himself back to his feet. Steve almost snaps at him that giving Thor even _more_ alcohol isn't the answer to any of this, but manages to keep his mouth shut.

Once Tony is out of the room, Steve puts a hand on Thor's shoulder. "Thor, look at me," he says firmly. He may have made a mistake in how he has gone about all this, but the sentiment remains. Thor shakes his head and shoves a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "Thor." He tightens his grip on the God's shoulder slightly, the soft flesh yielding in a way Steve is not, and never will be, used to.

"I shouldn't have come," Thor murmurs after what feels like an eternity of uncomfortable, dangerous silence. "This was so stupid. I shouldn't have come." His head swivels back and forth and his face is pulled into the most miserable expression Steve has ever seen. "M'not gonna be able to help, and now you all -" He sniffs, rubs his prosthetic eye with his thumb. "You're all so - I see how you're all looking at me. Thinkin' I need or want your pity."

Steve presses his lips together. "Nobody pities you," he says firmly, because that much is true. Yeah, he feels bad for the guy, but Steve certainly doesn't pity him, least of all for the condition he's currently in. "We're worried about you, yeah, definitely. Because you're our friend. Wouldn't you be worried about me if I was-" He cuts off, unsure of how to describe Thor's actions to Thor himself without once again making things worse.

"Fat and drunk?" Thor grunts, raising his eyes just enough to catch Steve's. "Of course. The difference is, you're less likely to give in to your weakness. It would be worth concerning myself over." He chuckles ruefully. "This is just who I am now. And I'm okay with it." He's clearly not okay with it.

"I'm not forcing you into anything," Steve ventures carefully, "but I hope you stick around, after all of this is done. Whether you want help or not. That's all. We've missed you, we've all missed each other. It'll be nice to all spend some time together again." It already is pretty nice to have everyone back under one roof, but it will be even better once their mission is complete and _everyone_ is home.

It's in that moment Tony returns, looking a little relieved that neither Steve nor Thor are physically injured, holding a drink. He hands it to Thor, who looked at it with appreciation. "So you guys work it out?" Tony asks.

Thor takes a sip of the drink and Steve shifts when his expression takes on a quality of pure relief. "This is… passable," Thor says with a cheeky lift of the corner of his mouth into a smirk. "I will… consider staying."

It's the best Steve could ask for, for now.

-end-


End file.
